


The Marksman

by tsuki_llama



Series: The Office [12]
Category: Darker Than Black
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 08:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12678090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuki_llama/pseuds/tsuki_llama
Summary: Hei and Misaki spend some time on the firing range.





	The Marksman

Hei sighted down the barrel of his Glock, aiming dead center at the head.

He drew in a deep, steadying breath; then with one long exhale he squeezed the trigger five times. The empty casings ejected one, two, three, four, five, but he didn’t hear them ping as they hit the concrete floor behind him.

Even with his ear plugs in, the shots rang in his ears long after he’d finished firing. Usually the shooting range was crowded during the day, an overwhelming, constant barrage of gunfire and conversations pitched loud. This time of night, though, he was the only one present. There was an eerie silence that seemed to soak up the echoes of his shots.

Hei set the gun down carefully on the counter in front of him and squinted down the range. It looked like at least two bullets had hit near the silhouette’s forehead; one had landed far to the left of the pretend man’s ear, almost off the paper completely. He couldn’t see where the other two had hit. With a weary sigh, he picked up the gun again.

A hand squeezed his shoulder. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to freeze in place rather than swing the butt of the Glock at his attacker.

“ _Here_ you are.” The familiar voice was barely audible through his ear plugs.

Hei slowly set the gun down again - careful to point the muzzle down range - and turned to see Misaki at his shoulder, smiling. Returning her smile with relief, he pulled the plugs out and pushed the safety glasses to the top of his head. “Is your meeting over already?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Already? It ran long by half an hour - have you been down here the whole time?”

“I guess so,” Hei shrugged. It felt like his practice session had lasted for days; but time always dragged when he was doing something he hated.

“I called you half a dozen times,” Misaki said. “I was getting worried when you weren’t answering.”

“You called…” he felt in the pocket of his jeans, but there was nothing there except his wallet. “Shit, I must have left the phone at my desk again. I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose,” Misaki said. He could tell she was joking, but still - he would have to work on that. Carrying a phone had always been a liability for him when he was with the Syndicate; with Section Four, it was an asset. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

He shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d need it here, but I should have brought it anyway; I won’t forget next time.”

Misaki only shook her head, amused. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who hates cells as much as you. How was your target practice? Kouno was complaining at lunch that you’ve been holding out on us during the group sessions - do I get to see what you can really do?”

He tried not to cringe at the obvious excitement in her voice. “Um, well…”

Misaki was peering down the range. “Is that - is that _your_ target?” she asked, despite the fact that it was the only one currently hanging in the entire room. She hit the button for the automatic pulley and they watched in silence as the black and white paper target was slowly reeled up the lane. When it reached them, Misaki unclipped it and stared at it in silence.

Those other two shots had just clipped the edge of the jaw, Hei saw with a bit of satisfaction. That would at least have slowed the contractor down - had this been a contractor and not a sheet of paper.

“It’s pretty decent,” Misaki said at last. “Adequate enough to qualify with the NPA, anyway.”

_But not good enough for Section Four_ _’s requirements_ , was what she wasn’t saying.

“You kind of have a grouping with these four here, but what the hell happened with this one?” She pointed at the shot that had gone far to the left.

Hei sighed. “I keep telling everyone that I’m not a great marksman; I don’t know why they don’t believe me.”

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t believe you either,” Misaki admitted. That stung a little, to know that she had doubted his word, but at the same time it was nice to hear that she’d thought so highly of his abilities. “I mean, you _do_ hold back during sparring.”

“I almost dislocated Saitou’s shoulder yesterday.” Saitou and Kouno had launched a two-man surprise attack, hoping to get some pointers on fighting multiple opponents at once. Hei had reacted reflexively - Kouno managed to escape unscathed, but Saitou, unfortunately, took the brunt of his response. That was why he preferred to do his own drills, alone.

Misaki smiled wryly. “I know; and I think they’re starting to appreciate your restraint. But then,” she gestured at the target, “I don’t get it. You were one of the Syndicate’s elite players - didn’t you learn to shoot with them?”

“Yeah, I did,” Hei said. He rubbed the back of his head. “This was the best I could do.”

“This?”

“I know; Ootsuka could do better.”

Misaki laughed. “I told you, this is good enough to qualify as marksman; it’s not too far off of Saitou and Matsumoto’s skills. I just had expected something more at the sharpshooter level. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel bad -”

“You’re not,” Hei told her hurriedly. “The Syndicate pushed me pretty hard on this - and I tried to get better. But I always hated shooting. My sister needed physical contact with her targets, which meant that I had to be close by to protect her; a covering fire had too much chance of hitting her by mistake, not unless I was an expert sniper. And there was no way I was going to get that good - so I stopped trying, and focused on improving what I was already good at.”

“You hate shooting?”

Hei smiled at the disbelief in her voice. As much as she loathed violence, Misaki deeply enjoyed target practice. It was a form of discipline, of meditation for her, much like practicing with a wooden sparring dummy was for him. “It’s too…detached, for me. Once the bullet leaves the barrel, there’s nothing you can do. We practice under controlled conditions,” he said, gesturing at the range, “but out in the field, you have too many unpredictable factors. Wind, a target in motion, potential bystanders. If you miss, the target is going to get away.” He hadn’t let anyone escape, in South America. A contractor he didn’t kill today meant someone who would try and kill Bai again tomorrow.

“It’s the same for hand-to-hand,” Misaki argued.

“If I can reach someone, I can kill him,” Hei said darkly. “Even without my power - a punch to the solar plexus, or a knife to a hamstring; he’s not getting away.”

A few months ago, Hei would never have said such words to Misaki. He’d been trying so hard to distance himself from the killer he’d once been, mostly for fear of alienating himself from her and his new team. But, slowly he was coming to realize that Misaki would never flinch away from who he was.

Misaki was gazing at him now, her arms folded. “Then why are you signing up for extra range time?”

Hei blinked. “…To get better?”

“Are you?”

The bluntness of her question took him aback. “Um, well, no.”

“I’m not going to tell you to stop your extra practice, but if you really dislike it so much and you’re not improving, then it seems like a huge waste of time.”

“Waste of time? When everyone else is better than me?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that why you’re practicing? To prove something to rest of the team?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why?”

“You’re starting to sound like my therapist,” he muttered.

Misaki only snorted. “Answer the question.”

“I - I need to get better so that I can protect my team.” He ran a hand through his hair. “What if we’re in a situation where I _can_ _’t_ get to an attacker, and shooting them is the only way, but I miss my shot?”

She regarded him thoughtfully. “When you were working with your team for the Syndicate, did you carry a gun?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I always went in alone. Huang and Yin kept their distance for recon, Mao was only there for distractions. It was just me, in and out.”

“In other words, you operated based on your individual strengths,”she said. “Was there ever a situation where firearms would have been better than knives?”

“Well, yeah. If I ever needed sniper support, Huang would bring his rifle.”

Misaki nodded, as if his words explained everything, but Hei wasn’t really sure where she was going with this. “Everyone on my team is at least qualified on a Glock and a revolver,” she said. “Including you, even if you don’t feel like you are. When I send out smaller teams on missions, I choose who to send based on the intel we have. If the contractor we’re up against is low-powered and easy to flip, I send Saitou - he’s great at talking them down, and will stand his ground if threatened. If it’s someone I think will need to be taken out, fast, or innocent people will get hurt I make sure you’re there - you can make that decision where the others might hesitate. If we need sniper support, I tap Kouno. And whenever _I_ _’m_ out in the field, I purposefully position myself to provide cover fire or backup - because that’s what _I_ _’m_ good at.”

“I…never really thought about that,” Hei admitted. “I guess you do do that.”

She smiled. “I hired you to fill a specific role in this team and I know how to use you, and when - you don’t have to worry about those decisions. So it’s fine if you want to keep practicing and get better at shooting, but don’t feel like you _need_ to.”

He hadn’t even realized that this had been burdening him, but at her words he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. He nodded.

“How many rounds do you have left?” Misaki asked, gesturing to the gun.

“Um, six, I think.”

“Good. Let’s finish them.” She reattached the paper target to its clips and sent it back down range. All the way down range.

“Um,” Hei said, “ninety meters? That’s a little far…”

“Anyone can hit a target five meters in front of them - and you were doing fine at fifteen. This is just more of a challenge. See if you can hit center mass.”

Hei squinted down the range, looking for the thin white circles on the black person-shaped block that marked where the heart would be. “Center mass? I can’t even _see_ it.”

“It’s right there; just aim and you’ll hit it.”

He had no idea how she could see the target. “Show me,” he said, handing over the gun.

Misaki didn’t protest; he could tell she’d been itching to fire at least one shot ever since stepping onto the range. They placed their ear plugs in and Hei pulled his safety glasses down - Misaki never liked wearing them over her prescription glasses, so as usual she opted out. She squared her shoulders and aimed the gun, arms straight, elbows slightly bent; Hei watched fondly as her features took on their familiar expression of intense concentration.

Even though he was prepared for it, he still jumped when she fired. Four successive shots, followed by the last two. Misaki set the pistol down with a satisfied smile and removed her ear protection. “Dead center,” she said.

“Are you sure?” Hei thought that he could see one or two bullet holes, but it was so far away…

“Of course! The cluster’s right…” She trailed off; he turned to her to see what was wrong. Instead of staring at the target as he’d expected, she was looking at him, her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Hei…you can’t see the holes?”

“It’s ninety meters away.”

“Yeah - only ninety meters. When was the last time you had an eye exam?”

He pulled his ear plugs out. “I had one every year with the Syndicate. So, two years ago, I guess? But my eyes are fine,” he protested, slightly horrified at the thought that he might not be able to _see_ , and hadn’t even noticed. Who doesn’t notice that they can’t see? Of course his eyes were fine. “They gave me laser surgery when I was fourteen.”

“Laser surgery. Because you had vision problems?”

“Then, yeah. But that was ten years ago.”

Misaki was biting her lip; Hei thought she might be trying to hold back a laugh. “Hei, corrective surgery only lasts about ten years. That’s one of the reasons why I’ve never bothered with it; I wouldn’t want to have to go back to glasses after not wearing them, even if it’s a milder prescription.”

“I don’t need _glasses_ , they’re for -” He cut himself off, but Misaki had already crossed her arms.

“Glasses are for what, exactly?”

“Um…for…people who are much smarter and better looking than I am?”

Misaki laughed, her eyes sparkling behind her lenses. “Nice save.” She pulled the safety glasses from his face and gently kissed each of his eyes. “We’ll get you an eye exam. And if you need contacts, you can get contacts. But I think you’d look so sexy in glasses…”

He slipped his hands around her waist. “Well, if you think that…” Glasses were sounding better already.

“And who knows,” she said with a raised eyebrow, “maybe they’ll help your aim.”


End file.
